


Cocytus

by MEGArdevoir



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3557831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MEGArdevoir/pseuds/MEGArdevoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the climax of Frozen had not gone well. Tossed together during a lunch break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cocytus

Unfortunately, the cold never bothered her.

Here, within her castle, Elsa ruled the vast expanse. She was the Snow Queen—if not for the power that poured forth from her, then for the fact snow was all that was left for any queen to rule.

The winds wailed through the mountains and hail knocked furiously at the castle windows. If she had not been who she was, perhaps then it would have been possible to pretend the pained wails and furious knocking belonged to nature; she could have even, perhaps, thought the noises were the sounds of other people and she could make conversation with the specters. 

But, no—she was the Snow Queen; the howls were her own as was the furious assault.

She did not speak and she did not move. Only the storm, its power intimately entwined with her life, provided the only proof that the Snow Queen still lived in spite of all her wishes. Not that there was anyone to prove anything to—that same storm had made sure of that. In scale to her emotions, the storm had grown and grown. It engulfed everything.

Even before the snow and ice piled foot upon foot upon foot, she had felt there was nothing left of worth in this world. Her only source of warmth was gone—Anna, her fiery-haired, warm-spirited sister; the sun to her own frigid moon, always chasing one-another but always ever failing to embrace. Locked within a chamber of the stone and mortar castle, Anna had succumbed to the curse Elsa had spawned; no act of love could undo what had happened, not that Elsa could make the trek to that chamber to try. Though the castle forces had barred her way, it was her own fear that caused her to retreat to her castle of ice.

How she had managed to carry herself to the icy castle before collapsing, she had not known. She still did not know, though she cursed however it had happened. Her memories after learning of her sister’s fate were as blurred and disorienting as the storm.

In the days that followed, she begged to the sky to take her. She wished and prayed for it. However, the clouds barred the stars from looking down upon her, keeping any from granting her wish; the screeching of the storm drowned out her whispered cries so that no one, whether human or otherwise, may hear and take pity on her.

When Arendelle succumbed to the onslaught of snow, Elsa had not known how to feel. At that time, she could not feel anything—was that numbness what it was like to freeze? Was that hollow, empty ache permeating every inch of her body like the curse that had taken away her sister? If so, then why, after all this time, had it not taken her away, too?

The winter spread and consumed. The neighboring kingdoms followed Arendelle; all attempts to stem the onslaught of wind and ice failed pitifully. After all, how could one hope to fight a force of nature, as unnatural it may have been?

Elsa had begged and pleaded. Her power consumed all, so why had it left her be? Was this her punishment for taking Anna away? She was not allowed to go the place Anna was now. That was all there was to it and she earnestly believed it, yet she still hoped and pleaded.

Even the comfort of crying was something she no longer deserved. Any tears turned to snow and fluttered away, as though a force was deliberately stealing each and every one away lest the feeling of the warm water upon her cheeks soothe her even the slightest.

Unable to feel, unable to cry, unable to have her wish heard, she sat silently within the icy walls of her empty castle with a numbness worse than frostbite.

There was no more day, only night. It was a perpetual darkness that only empowered the cold. The storm howled and thrashed through the world, a fury that hurt all but the one it was intended for—herself. Her pain took away that which she held most sacred, so it was fitting that it failed wholly and utterly to take her away as well.

Unfortunately, the cold never bothered her.


End file.
